


Drawstring Pants

by skywriter11



Category: The Mara Dyer Series - Michelle Hodkin
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub, F/M, Flogging, Light BDSM, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-16 03:24:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5811832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywriter11/pseuds/skywriter11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"'Close your eyes.' I did. 'Now where were we?'<br/>'I was straddling you,' I said.<br/>'Right.  And I’m wearing…?'<br/>'Drawstring pants,' I said.<br/>'Those are quite thin, you know.'<br/>I’m aware."</p><p>After the events of the trilogy, Mara and Noah spend some quality time with those drawstring pants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mara

**Author's Note:**

> Set a year or so after the end of the series. No real connection to plot, just some general fun. Obviously, the characters belong to the delightful Michelle Hodkin. I’m just doing some nice beyond PG-13 absconding. Italicized text at the beginning of chapters is quoted directly from the series.

_“Close your eyes.” I did. “Now where were we?”_  
_‘I was straddling you,” I said._  
_“Right. And I’m wearing…?”_  
_“Drawstring pants,” I said._  
_“Those are quite thin, you know.”  
_ _I’m aware._

 

Noah’s fingers skimmed across my hipbone where it peeked out between the hem of one of his old t-shirts and a ratty pair of pajama bottoms. I slapped it away with no real intent behind the motion “I’m reading.”

“Oh? I apologize. I won’t bother you then. I’ll just…keep my hands to myself,” he muttered, his breath sending delicious shivers down my spine. He stretched his arms as far out as they would go with a contented sigh, then folded them underneath his head and closed his eyes, settling in as if being near me had no effect on him. He curled onto his side, careful not to touch me.

Now, that just wouldn’t do. I hadn’t said I’d wanted him to stop, but now I definitely couldn’t let him win that easily. Talk about a lose/lose situation. I struggled to calm my breathing, knowing he’d feel the slightest change in my pulse. He was quiet, a carefully constructed picture of disinterest. The stiffness of his legs and arms betrayed him, though, and as quietly as I could, I shifted a fraction of an inch closer to him on his bed. His warm sigh blew a strand of hair over my nose and I feigned a sneeze, taking advantage of the motion to press my ass closer to him. “Gesundheit,” he muttered, an uninterested smirk in his voice. I knew better by the twitch I felt behind me, though.

“Thank you,” I answered, mustering up every bit of self-control I had left to keep my voice as disinterested as possible. I stretched experimentally, curling and uncurling my fingers and pressing my back flush to his chest. Noah couldn’t keep from sighing this time, and I felt the muscles of his chest tighten at my touch. His drawstring pajama pants and thin sleep shirt hid nothing, and I was enjoying the rare advantage.

After a moment with no other reaction, Noah’s muscles relaxed and his breathing evened. _Fuck_. Not the intention. I attempted to focus on the lines in front of me, wiggling back and forth slightly as if it was an unconscious action, a result of how _relaxed_ or _contented_ I was. Noah Shaw was not breathing, and for a second I stilled, worried I wasn’t as in control as I thought I was. Panic rose in my throat until a strong arm encircled my waist, pulling me completely flush against his body. I relaxed briefly before the feel of his arm against the skin of my stomach couldn’t be ignored. “Mara, are you teasing me?” he asked, as if the very idea were laughable to him.

“No, I’m reading,” I replied archly.

He stuck his finger in the book and closed it as I grumbled a protestation. “If you can repeat five of the words from the last sentence you read, hell, the last page, then I’ll believe you and happily leave you alone.”

_Shit, caught._ “Um-“

“That’s not one of them,” he purred, his mouth closer to my ear now. I couldn’t move. “You lose, Mara Dyer.” He pressed a kiss to my neck where it met my shoulder and it was my turn to stop breathing. I could feel the electricity crackling over my skin, lighting fires everywhere his body met mine.   His teeth scraped up my neck to my ear and suddenly he wasn’t playing anymore. I arched my back as the arm around my waist moved up until his fingers were splayed over my ribcage and working their way north.

Breathless, I pushed back toward him, delighted to find him already straining against the front of his pants. I was impatience and need; I couldn’t turn around because of his arm wrapped around me, but I reached for him and ran my fingers over his sides, down his legs…

Suddenly, I was on my back, both wrists pinned in one of his hands. “I believe you once mentioned a fantasy involving drawstring pants, Mara.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one who brought up fantasies. And that was a fear exercise, wasn’t it?”

He chuckled low in his throat and it vibrated up my spine. His legs were so long that he’d managed to straddle me without actually touching me; our only point of contact was now his hand over my wrists. It was deeply, deeply unfair. “I’m not the one who brought up the drawstring pants.”

“You’re the one who wore them.” The argument sounded weak, even to me.

“Just for you, Mara.” He began to pull at the aforementioned drawstring until he’d removed the entire length from the waist of his pants. The waistband slid down an inch or so, exposing a delicious slice of his abdomen. I had tunnel vision, focused on that spot to the point of barely blinking, and he knew it. Bastard.

I couldn’t let him win. “Wasn’t _I_ straddling _you_ in aforementioned ‘fantasy’?” I asked peevishly.

“Yes, well, this is real life.” Double bastard. His face turned serious as he drew my wrists up in front of him and lay the drawstring of his pants across them. “We’ve discussed this, Mara. Do you trust me?” My eyes went wide as I understood his meaning and nodded. A smile broke over his features and he was all mischief again. “Excellent. Do let me know if anything pinches,” he said while removing my shirt and playfully rolling my nipple between his forefinger and thumb on the way. I tried to glare at him, but a loud moan escaped me instead. “Other than me, of course.”

He made quick work of the length of rope, binding my hands together at the wrists and then attaching the rope to a hook on his headboard. It struck me that the hook was new, and, perhaps more importantly, until this moment, Noah Shaw’s pajama pants had been held up with bondage rope. I tried to stifle a giggle without success. He stilled, and it took the last of my focus to keep from crying out for him. “What, pray tell, is so hilarious, Mara?”

“That was a funny joke, about the pinching,” I lied. I was still annoyed with him regarding the lack of physical contact occurring.

Noah didn’t believe me at all, but it didn’t really matter. He pulled another length of shibari rope from under his bed, then slid my pants and underwear down my legs, following with a string of infuriatingly light kisses across my hipbone, thigh, calf. Once I was completely exposed, he tied each ankle separately to the base of his bed.

After finishing, he sat between my legs, proud of his handiwork. I felt completely naked in front of him, in every way. I was a bundle of sensation, each draft in the room to my overly sensitized flesh feeling like a tantalizing caress. I pulled against my bonds, not really wanting to get free but feeling like I had to put up a show. Noah smiled and stood up, stepping back from me, watching me squirm underneath his gaze. “Mara, Mara, Mara,” he purred, brushing a fingertip up my side. I cried out at the sudden contact, briefly overwhelmed by the sensation. “What to do with you?”

 


	2. Noah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not sure you can appreciate how much I want to lay you out before me and make you scream my name.”

_“I’m not sure you can appreciate how much I want to lay you out before me and make you scream my name.”_

 

I already had a plan, of course. I was just enjoying the slow torture of the beautiful woman spread out before me. She was making a valiant effort to keep me from knowing exactly the effect I was having on her, but she couldn’t hide from me. Even though I knew, could read in every heartbeat and breath how much I was affecting her, her lack of reaction was vexing. Aside from the one gasp I’d managed to pull from her, she was infuriatingly quiet, and I found myself overwhelmingly distracted by the desire to hear more.

“You’re rather controlled today,” I remarked, lighting a candle I’d set next to my bed the night before. “What’s wrong, Mara; tongue tied?” She glared at me, managing to seem dangerous despite her position.

When she didn’t answer, it was time to take action. “If looks could kill…” I murmured, “I’m glad I have this.” I opened the drawer of my nightstand, drawing out a blindfold. See? Planning.

“Ha-ha,” she deadpanned. Her voice was steady, but her pupils dilated at the sight of the fabric in my hand.

I leaned over the bed, tying the ends together behind her head. She inhaled sharply as I stroked her cheek, and her heart raced. Without seeing her full expression, I couldn’t be perfectly sure if she was scared or excited. “Is this alright, Mara?” It’s not like we hadn’t discussed this before, but the actual act was different than a conversation about fantasies. “If you lie, I’ll know.”

“The only way this won’t be alright is if you stall any longer than you already have, Noah Shaw,” she snapped. _Ah, she speaks!_ And she definitely wasn’t lying.

I zeroed in on her mouth as she chastised me, unable to resist dipping down to press my lips to hers. I drew her bottom lip into my mouth, biting down slightly, and was rewarded with a low moan. I stiffened immediately. That moan… I was ready to take her then and there, let the silly pants fall to the floor and have my way with Mara until her moans bounced off my walls as I drove us both toward release.

I shook myself out of the daydream. This was about _her_ pleasure, _her_ reactions. Mara. I forced myself to focus on Mara. “Glad to hear it.” I kissed the most sensitive spot on her neck again, smiling as her body lifted off the bed as if possessed. I kissed lower, biting her collarbone lightly and admiring the flush it brought to her skin. She sighed lightly, quietly, and I revisited the daydream of

Finally, I sucked lightly at one nipple, drawing lazy circles with my tongue and mirroring the motion with my thumb and forefinger on her other breast. “Fuck, Noah…” It was barely above a whisper, nowhere near what I was looking for.

I stood abruptly and she swore again, this time with considerably more malice. Her frustration would be worth it in seconds, as I picked up the specially formulated candle. I dipped my finger into the wax first, and then drew my wet fingertip across her skin so she’d know what was coming. The muscles of her abdomen tightened as the liquid solidified, and she squirmed against her restraints. I waited a moment, worried she was uncomfortable, but quickly realized she was only after more. Feeling generous, I obliged, tilting the candle so that three drops of wax fell to pool on her sternum. She hissed in pleasure. Another drop of the deep red wax fell to her left breast, quickly mirrored on the right. The answering moan was almost too much, and my cock twitched against the front of my pants. “More,” she whispered. “Please.”

“Sorry, what was that?” I asked, tilting the candle back to stop a drip of wax right on the precipice.

“Please, Noah,” she moaned, still softly but loud enough that every nerve in my body responded. “More.”

She wasn’t quite begging yet. I’d have that soon. I drizzled a line of wax from the point of her collarbone toward her belly button, feeling her shudder as each drop spread across her skin. I moved from her belly button in a diagonal line to her hip, then back again, then repeated the motion on the opposite side. Mara groaned loudly and bucked her hips toward me, throwing her head to the side as she struggled to get closer.

I’d tucked a small leather flogger into my drawer beside the blindfold, and I drew it out slowly, letting the tail of each strand trail across her skin. Another moan, lighting a fire deep in my stomach. A quick motion sent the flogger against her smooth skin and I marveled, watching the pink flush wash over her. The strands flicked away some of the bits of wax clinging to her abdomen. Another motion sent the wax on each breast flying.

I let another drop fall a few inches directly below her belly button, and Mara cried out. It wasn’t a sound of pain, or rather, of pain without pleasure. It was a sound of frustration and need. I wanted to oblige. Watching my flogger redden her skin, I could hardly breathe. I wouldn’t leave lasting marks; I knew she wouldn’t want that, but the temporary evidence of what I could do to her overwhelmed me. _Mine_ , she was all mine. I’d marked her as mine and she’d allowed it, welcomed it. She was begging me for more. That word circled around my head, all but blocking all reason. _Mine. Mine. Mine._

I started at her collarbone again, this time working up a rhythm. Drip, flick, drip, flick, moving down her body toward where she was most aching for my touch. I lingered at the few inches below her belly button, taking longer than I needed to, watching with amusement as her fingers flexed helplessly where she was tied to my headboard.

When both of us were on the edge, I blew out the candle, focusing just on the flogger. I flicked more softly against her swollen, exposed lips, and she hissed with a mixture of pleasure and surprise. A brush of my thumb over her clit smoothed away the brief sting and left Mara bucking wildly against my hand. I flicked her again before plunging my index finger into her. _Fuck_ , she was wet. I wanted to bury my tongue in her folds and drink her dry, to revel in the overwhelming aroma of her until we were both spent and shaking.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t part of the plan. I moved my flogger up from where she wanted me, flicking any last bits of wax off of her skin. As soon as her beautiful skin was once again clear of red wax, I returned to a rhythm. I sent the strands of my flogger over her swollen clit, followed quickly by a plunge of first one finger, then two into her. Flick, push until her delighted screams echoed in the room, bathing me in the sound of her. Mara jerked back and forth, and it was an effort just to keep pressure where she needed it. I wouldn’t dream of missing, though.

When I couldn’t hold out any longer, I replaced the flogger with my thumb, drawing circles around her clit with my fingertip as my forefinger and middle finger kept working in and out of her. She tensed up, arms and legs stiffening as her fingers and toes curled. I kept at it until her entire body began to shake. “Come, Mara,” I whispered, and she did. Both of our moans filled my room as she fell to pieces around me.


	3. Mara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A current traveled from my fingertips through to the hollow where my stomach used to be. And just like that, I was completely, utterly, and entirely. His.

_A current traveled from my fingertips through to the hollow where my stomach used to be. And just like that, I was completely, utterly, and entirely. His._

 

When I could focus on what was going on around me again, I felt Noah slowly unwinding the rope from around my wrists. He massaged cool lotion over the imprints the knots had left, placing feather-light kisses on my skin. I hummed, content for the moment. The need for him was welling up again, though, and the kisses he placed on my ankles while he untied me were much too sweet. His motions were infuriatingly unhurried, as if he wasn’t feeling the same desperation I was.

As soon as all my limbs were free, Noah leaned over to untie my blindfold. Taking advantage of his position, I reached out and tugged him down to me, until we both fell back onto his pillows in a tangle of limbs. I wrapped my legs around his waist and smiled to myself as his hips rocked forward to meet mine, almost of their own accord. Clearly, he wasn’t as unhurried as he was trying to seem. He was hard against me, and I used my legs to maneuver him right where I needed the friction most.

Noah groaned as I moved against him, rocking his hips back and forth in time with my movements, fisting his hands in the sheets on either side of my shoulders. Bless those thin, thin pants. I reached a hand up to entwine my fingers in the hair falling over his face, and Noah dipped down to kiss my neck again. He flicked his tongue at the soft patch of skin above my collarbone. Spots of color exploded behind my eyelids and my gently stroking fingers became fists as I gripped onto him for dear life.

He looked far too satisfied with himself when he looked up, which simply wouldn’t do. I cocked an eyebrow and asked petulantly, “All these kisses on the neck today. Are you afraid I’d bite if you got closer to my mouth?”

“No, just always been into _Pretty Woman_ ,” Noah replied impishly.

“Fuck you.”

He winked. “Only if you play nice.”

Nice was not even remotely in the cards. His smugness had him relaxed, not ready for when I pushed my right hip forward, creating momentum to flip us around so I was over him. I straddled him and sat back on my heels, and it was my turn to smile. I felt invincible over him, relishing the way Noah’s eyes traced my body. One of his hands gripped my hip forcefully, pulling me over his erection as he thrust forward, grinding against me. I threw my head back and he reached up to – _fuck_ – I still wasn’t sure what he did to my breasts that made me feel like that, as my eyes slid closed every time. I was molten in his hands, fire running through my veins at every touch.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured.

His eyes were fixated on mine, pupils dilated so his irises were nearly black. Noah was looking up at me through his thick lashes, and I couldn’t help but breathe, “You’re one to talk.”

That beautiful smile broke across his face, and I ran my thumb over his lips. He sucked my finger into his mouth, biting down softly on the tip. Lightning shot through my nerves at his touch, and I bucked against him without realizing what I was doing.

Noah still had those stupid drawstring pants on, not even drawstring anymore now that he’d tied me up and had his way with me. I slid down on his legs, finally able to explore the slice of skin on his hip that had taunted me earlier. I bent down, scraping my teeth over his hipbone as I slid his pants down over his thighs. I was delighted to find he hadn’t bothered with boxers, and finally he was as naked as I was. I ran a hand over his erection, biting my lip as he groaned loudly. His whole body was taut and strained, his hands fisted at his sides as he waited for my next touch.

Experimentally, I reached out and ran my tongue over the sensitive spot beneath his head, earning another loud moan. I ran one hand up the inside of his thigh, and Noah shuddered. He was so still, so controlled despite clear evidence of how he was feeling. I ran my thumb over his head and licked the same spot again, smiling at his sharp intake of breath.

“Mara,” he said tightly, “You don’t want to be doing that. It’s time to stop teasing, darling.”

“Make me,” I taunted.

“I will if I have to.” _Fuck._ His words pulled deep in my stomach, and I wanted him to make me. His words left me feverish and dizzy, desperate for him. He wasn’t touching me, still gripping the sheets next to him for dear life. I wanted those beautiful hands on me, in me, holding me as tightly as he was holding those sheets right now.

With light brushes of my fingers and tongue, I drove him closer and closer to the edge, until finally he couldn’t wait any longer. With something between a roar and a curse, Noah leaned forward. He covered my hand with his, wrapping my fingers around his cock and squeezing. I couldn’t stop from panting as he started a rhythm, moving my hand over him in long, fluid strokes.

His other hand came up to the nape of my neck, wrapping my hair around his fist. He positioned my mouth over him, and then drew my head down. He thrust into my mouth and I cried out, finally feeling filled by him. His hands worked my fingers and mouth over his erection, taking pleasure from me that I was happy to give. Despite being focused entirely on Noah, I could feel myself soaking over his leg.

It wasn’t long before Noah no longer needed to set the rhythm. I moved my head and hand in time with one another, bringing my other hand up to run up his thigh, cup between his legs, grip his hip. Noah let go of my hand, moving his freed fingers up to my hair as well. He wasn’t pushing hard or going so far that I gagged, but the constant, strong pressure of his grip was enough that I felt entirely claimed by him. Without a doubt, I was made for – and belonged to – Noah Elliot Simon Shaw.

I closed my eyes and hummed low in my throat, knowing the vibrations would set him close to the edge of orgasm. He throbbed, growing against my tongue, and I couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped my lips. His touch, the way he drew the pleasure out of me without making any demands, and the soft breaths washing over his lips were almost too much. If he managed to make me come just with the pressure of his knee on me and his hands in my hair, I’d never hear the end of it.

I didn’t care.

Noah seemed to, though, and he abruptly pulled back. I whimpered at the loss of him, but was cut off by him leaning forward, his arm sliding around my waist, rolling me beneath him. His body pressed into mine, and I came undone. 


	4. Noah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know what I can do to a girl with a word, a look, a touch. And I want to do them all to her.”

_“I know what I can do to a girl with a word, a look, a touch. And I want to do them all to her.”_

Mara shuddered against me, and the smell of her, the feel of her skin on mine, was almost too much. I was so used to being the controlled one, deriving my pleasure from watching others open before me. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to the way she made me feel. I’d once told her not to be gentle with me, but when I said that, I hadn’t realized what a force of nature she would be. Mara Dyer eclipsed all reason, and all I wanted was to revel in her.

When my heartbeat had calmed down enough that I could focus on something other than Mara’s wetness pressed against my leg, I moved. The _Pretty Woman_ comment earlier had been flippant, but she was right; I hadn’t paid enough attention to her lips. Those beautiful, full lips, slightly parted and glistening as she panted for me definitely deserved more attention. I tilted my head toward her, bringing the arm around her waist up to her back and drawing her close to me. My tongue slid easily into her mouth, her taste immediately shattering any world beyond the space between us.

Her tongue met mine, and her small hand came to rest on my cheek. It was a sweet motion, especially when compared to what she was doing with her legs, which were wrapped viselike around my hips. I wanted to drown in Mara Dyer, to stay tangled like this for the rest of my life, the rest of many lifetimes. I’d always thought the band Sweet was full of it when they wrote “Love is Like Oxygen,” but if I were ever given the chance to breathe in Mara, I would take it with out a second thought.

She shifted a centimeter closer and – _fuck_ – my thoughts turned decidedly less lyrical. I wanted to feel her shudder against me again so badly, wanted to feel the heat of her on my skin. I ran my hand down her side, down until I could cup her ass in one palm. I squeezed and she let out a delighted yelp, starting slightly before smiling up at me, biting her lip.

The thoughts the sight of her teeth pulling at that full bottom lip brought to mind were _worse_ than the dream on her birthday. Forget just going to hell; they’d have a special circle reserved in the inferno for me. And I didn’t care.

I dove for her, pulled her lip out of her perfect mouth and bit down on it myself until her moan washed over my face. Mara hitched her leg higher up my back and I could feel her heat over me. I pressed closer to her, rubbing myself against her clit. Her reaction was immediate; She broke our kiss to pitch forward and bite down hard on my neck. It stung, but soon the pain smoothed into waves of pleasure.

I returned the favor on her shoulder, biting down and releasing. I watched her skin redden and the _mine, mine, mine_ beating against my skull came back in full force. I had to have her, to possess her, had to watch her skin flush and shiver under my touch. _“You belong to me,”_ I growled into her ear.

Mara’s nails curled into my back, and I hissed. It was an involuntary reaction, and I smiled where my lips rested against her cheek. _“I’m yours,”_ she whispered in response.

My entire body ached with need for her, and I was done denying myself, done denying Mara the pleasure I could bring her. I positioned myself at her entrance, and she moaned before _dripping_ onto me. I died a thousand deaths, shattered and came together all at once. And then, I was inside of her.

Mara’s hands slid from my back and fell above her head as I stilled, giving her a moment to adjust. I braceleted her wrists in one hand, using the other to reach down and stroke her cheek. She smiled lazily, relaxed. I couldn’t have that.

Still stroking her cheek, smiling at her sweetly, I pulled almost all the way out of her before pulling her hips up to meet mine. Mara’s beautiful eyes flew open, and the look in them was decidedly less…lazy. I grinned down at her, and she smiled wickedly back. I pulled back again before filling her completely, eliciting the loudest moan yet, almost a scream. Slowly, agonizingly, I built up a rhythm. I moved over her, in her, and Mara was fluid lust underneath me.

I let go of Mara’s wrists to brush a hand over her breast, taking the opposite nipple into my mouth. “Fuck, Noah,” she cried. Those three syllables undid me. “I belong to you.”

I could barely breathe. _Mine, mine, mine_ ; it was my heartbeat pulsing in my ears. _Mine, mine, mine,_ setting my veins on fire. I pounded into her, and she gave back as good as she got, digging her fingers into my shoulders, pulling my hair, scratching down my back. Our words devolved into single syllables, then just cries and moans, the meaning still understood between us.

Mara’s grin turned wolfish, and I knew I was in trouble. She pulled the same trick of momentum with her hip again, and I was so lost in her that all I could do was go along with it. Her knees fell on either side of my hips, and she leaned forward, dragging herself up and over me. She kissed my neck and I saw stars. When her fingers brushed over my chest, followed by her lips and tongue and teeth, I didn’t see anything anymore. I thrust forward and Mara threw her head back.

She was almost as slow as I’d been setting the pace, but not quite. Her hands were free from my grasp and roving across my body, exploring. She’d never been this brazen before; my girl was alive and intoxicating and I couldn’t get enough. Her warm fingertips left trails of delight, and soon my whole body was once again tensed beneath her, teetering on the edge.

Finally, I grabbed Mara’s hips with both hands. Her eyes fluttered shut as I lifted her off of me slightly before rocking my hips up to meet hers. Her lips formed a perfect O as I quickened the pace and she began to help, leaning back so I could hit the exact spots that drove her wild.

With Mara’s assistance, I could guide the motion of her hips with only one hand. I used the other to grab the back of her neck, pulling her gaze from the ceiling down to meet my eyes. Slowly, making sure she could see every motion, I slid my hand down her body to graze a thumb over her clit. She groaned, working herself over me even faster. I balanced my hand against the inside of her thigh so I could keep my thumb where she needed it most.

“That’s it, darling,” I whispered hoarsely. “Come for me.” Her breath hitched in her throat, and she clenched around me. Mara’s hair fell around her shoulders as she collapsed onto my chest. Her fingers curled over my chest, electrifying my skin again.

Slowly at first, I began to thrust into her, making sure the sensation was pleasurable rather than overwhelming for her. I moved my hands to her hips again and Mara sighed into my neck, a contented rumble deep in her throat. Now that the lovely woman in my arms was sated, I allowed myself to enjoy the sensation of her around me, over me, surrounded completely by her skin and hair and sighs. She was my Mara, and I reveled in her.

After a few moments of long, languid thrusts, Mara began pushing back against me. “Again?” I asked, feigning incredulity.

“Oh, shut up,” she murmured, but she was smiling.

I pulled her lips to mine, allowing myself to take from her and to fill her at once. Mara quickened, then stilled in my arms, a small gasp escaping from her lips as her third orgasm overtook her. I began to tense, and Mara, my beautiful Mara, leaned down so her single syllable brushed against my ear. “Come.” And with that, I did.

 

After a long, luxurious nap wrapped in a tangle of limbs, I felt Mara get up to use the bathroom. Her feet padded away across the floor, but she took a bit longer coming back. When I cracked an eyelid, I found her standing in front of my closet, laughing. I knew she’d found the seven crisply folded and hung pairs of drawstring pants.


End file.
